Superhero Support Group
by nictophilia
Summary: When the curtains are drawn, five teens return back to the harsh realities where they belong - Jump City Asylum. Rachel Roth, Victor Stone, Richard Grayson, Kori Anders and Garfield Logan are in it for different reasons - and they will not allow Dr Slade Joseph Wilson to destroy the utopia that they've created.
1. Raven

So in 2015, my friends in the Drama Club had this play where a group of "superheroes" talked about their superpowers and were terrified of "The Doctor". These "superheroes" were actually different individuals whose lives were scarred by accidents and trauma, such as physical abuse, and they cope with living an alternate persona where they sought to have control in their lives. For example, Shade, a girl who hides in the shadows and manipulates them, was actually a victim of child abuse while Caper, a girl who could fly, was actually involved in a skydiving accident which saw her boyfriend dead. "The Doctor" was basically a psychiatrist who manages to "fight" off their powers and that's why they are afraid of her.

After watching the play, I realized that this too could be applicable to my favourite superhero group. Starfire could be an immigrant who was heavily discriminated against for her strange speech and basically for being an alien. Cyborg could be a veteran who lost his limbs and fell into depression, creating a younger version of himself - a hero with molybdenum body parts, unstoppable and independent...

You get my drift.

So I'll start with our very first patient of Jump City's Asylum, a young woman named Rachel Roth...

* * *

Oh I refuse to acknowledge I share the same name as him. I refuse to remember that I am his flesh and bone.

No, no, he will not have this beautiful name that I have... I, Rachel Angela Roth, refuse to have any affiliation to the man that sired, but never nurtured me. He is cold. Cruel. Beyond reason. I am nothing like him. But he calls me his daughter.

Three was his number.

Three deadly sins.

 _Pride._

"Angela, I have told you already that I don't need to seek your bloody permission for the family's finances! I'm the breadwinner and I get to decide where the money goes! I'm not so dumb as to burn my money away." He banged the table as he yelled, chest heaving in anger. "That was just a failed investment that I thought would work!"

"But gambling is not - "

"SHUT UP WOMAN! YOU TALK TOO MUCH!" He struck her across the face and sent her falling backwards with the impact.

My mother, poor mother, has sadly gotten used to such treatment. I shut my eyes and brace for impact. At any time, he'd come for me now, after he was done with my mother. I regret not being in the refuge of my room.

 _Any time..._

He held my shoulders roughly, breath stinking of alcohol and cigarettes.

 _Wrath._

I feel myself flying across the room, like how I'd fly over a city if I could protect its inhabitants, and into the darkness.

I shut out and took the punches, the insults of being the additional burden to the family, once again acknowledging my purpose on this world was to exist as a punching bag.

I cry, because each time it happens with heavier intensities, while my mother's cries and screams drown out my pain.

I closed my eyes and thought of Raven.

Sorceress of the darkness, spawn of a demon. She likes hiding in the shadows. She detests bright daylight. She has the beautiful shade of purple for her hair and most importantly, she could fly, fly as far as she wants, and escape from worlds she doesn't like living in. She can travel across dimensions, fleeing far, very far away from her father.

Times like these, I am no longer Rachel Angela Roth. I sit at the corner of my room, living a life I dreamt up instead. I become Raven Roth, the unlikely dark hero.

The bruises never really disappear, but over the years, I think real bruises aren't the kinds that you can see on your body.

 _Lust._

It wasn't long before it happened.

"Rachel," he gasped, "you have the youth that your mother never had."

The vampire of the night appeared before me, his teeth clamping down into my neck...

I don't scream.

I won't open my eyes.

* * *

As they brought me here, I couldn't really make out what they were saying. I saw a young man, whose body was not quite complete. A girl who didn't look American, but nonetheless was very beautiful with her bright emerald eyes, and a few others...

The ones in white kept saying I needed help. But I told them that it was him that needed help. I'm perfectly fine, I think. I just don't move for a few days or eat. Not everyone functions normally everyday. Can they? Don't people lie in their beds because it just feels so safe? Not having to interact with the outside world, not ever having to move on in a life they didn't choose to be in?

My mother was visibly worried, her face haggard and torn by years of misery. She hugged me before she left, telling me she'd visit soon. She said in here I would learn to fly again. I didn't understand that either.

I already could fly.

I could detach myself so much so that I never felt anything - I needn't have a soul that could be hurt anymore.

I have shed the identity of Rachel Roth, and in it's place is Raven - cloaked hero, ally of darkness.

* * *

Mm, if you've any ways to improve this chapter you're welcome to PM me! :) or leave a review. Either way works. Ideas for future chapters are also welcome. I don't have the brain of a genius *deep sigh* but I am cooperative!

Sorry if this chapter is kinda short...I wrote this in like an hour? So it MAY be kind of rushed...

\- nic


	2. Beast Boy

Well. Honestly? I wanted to kill this fic so bad. But I went to read all 7 reviews I got upon publishing the first chapter and thought... hey? Whatever happened to the me who wanted to get good fics out there? Fics that were grammatically correct with decent prose? Why am I not writing more? So... here you have it. Courtesy of the seven reviewers who made this chapter possible. I present Garfield Logan, a boy who never quite fit in because of his vitiligo. (It's a condition with irregular patches of skin. Do google to find out more!)

* * *

 _"Garfield!" Rita Farr, my adoptive mother, screamed in horror. "Steve, he's done it again! Oh, my poor, poor Gar..." She cradled the fourteen year old me in her arms, with tears splashing out of the seams of her eyes. Steve Dayton ran up to the bedroom of their only adopted son, a boy whose skin condition more often than not invited unpleasant stares and remarks._

 _I was crying uncontrollably as my parents checked his arms, dotted with welts from his pinching and bloody patches of skin which he had tried tearing off._

That was one month ago.

That was the day Garfield Logan died and Beast Boy was born.

I sit in my special corner as I looked around at the people living with me now. They were odd. Some of them talk to air. Some to themselves. And some...some just didn't talk, or move.

Why am I here? I should be saving innocent people from evils of the world. Why am I here, escorted back and forth, occasionally seeing the same haunting girl with black hair who gives me a look as if... as if she knows me?

I hate seeing Dr Wilson. I hate Dr Wilson, basically. He keeps telling me my name is Garfield Logan, but Garfield Logan died. I am Beast Boy. And I always have been Beast Boy. I have green skin and I shapeshift into animals.

Cute ones. Who doesn't like cats? Or dogs? Everyone loves fluffy animals. I've seen the comments section of Facebook videos. People adore me. They love me when I change into their favorite animal. They say Beast Boy is the best superhero ever.

I don't mean to sound conceited, but I agree.

 _"What's your new name now, huh, Logan?" Gerard held me against the lockers as I hit the metal with a loud thud._

 _"Beast.. Boy..." I struggled to get it out of me. I squeezed my eyes shut as I saw myself turning into an angry King Kong, breaking myself free of his grip._

 _He and his friends laughed, as they pinched my arms. "Does Beast Boy have stupid skin like you do, Logan?" They laughed even more as I fell to the ground, taking their punches and kicks._

 _It used to hurt. Not anymore._

 _"Green... skin..." I spluttered as someone delivered a foot into my gut. "I'M NOT STUPID! I'M NOT STUPID!"_

 _I continued to scream as the adults began to scramble all over, trying to find where the screams were coming from. I was a raging chimp about to rain down hell on Gerard and his herd._

 _I'll show him green skin ain't stupid. Beast Boy would become alive tonight._

I scratch at my skin, wanting to see the green appear. All I saw was white and pinkish-brown, like God forgot how to code my DNA. I think he was rushing for lunch break when he made me, because I'm like two halves of different people mashed into one. Or maybe the heavens ran out of skin, so they stitched together different ones to make me.

Some days people just say things to my face. That's okay, I've gotten used to it. Because I do agree with them.

I am ugly.

I am a freak.

I don't belong.

It's probably why my parents died.

Other days, people try to see for themselves what's beneath it. Gerard and his people were those.

They pick at me, cut me, and I don't respond because when they succeed, they'd see Beast Boy.

Then I'll have the last laugh.

"Garfield Logan. Nice to see you again." A voice broke me out of my thoughts. _Who is Garfield Logan?_

I look up to notice a man with an eye-patch looking down at me with a smile.

 _You're evil. I can tell by that eye-patch._

And you know what happens to evil?

Heroes like me kick its butt.

It wasn't before long I found myself pinned down by three men in white, all yelling things that I don't understand.

The raven-haired girl looked at me again as I was wheeled into the room, with my body unable to move. She was silently reading a book, something my eyes made out to be "Jane Eyre".

I wonder what's her name?

* * *

;_; I'm sorry I don't think this was as good compared to the first, but.. I tried? Please let me know if there's any way you think this can be improved. I look forward to providing quality fics!

\- Nictophilia


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